April 30th, 1649
The sister—Annabeth—could be more trouble than I expected. I thought her a small dispute, figured she would never amount to a real threat against me, against my plans, but I was wrong. She knows far more than she should. No one—no one—was supposed to find out about Dohlov. That had been the agreement. Clearly, something has gone wrong though because she knows something.
I wonder if someone told her or if she worked it out herself. Though I detest it, I must say she appears to be rather intelligent—annoyingly so actually.
I knew she would be an obstacle the minute I stepped into the castle. Her hard gaze lingered on me far too long to only entertain mild interest, and it was far too piercing to be innocent curiosity. And then, last night—
Last night—
So stupid. Everything was so stupid. I was so stupid—but I couldn't help it.
In the beginning, I was just goading her. It's fun to play with miss prim little princess. She exudes such an aggressive aura of perfection, I felt it was my responsibility to fuck it up. And gods, was it worth it—to watch the way her nose just barely crinkled with distance, and the way her eyes grew calm at the whisper of conflict.
It's amusing. It's entertaining. It's invigorating.
Last night was going fine, swimmingly, in fact, all to plan—when Rachel asked me to dance with her sister, and the night took a deadly turn. I wouldn't have accepted her request, but Rachel came to me, clearly troubled, and I, being the dutiful, caring fiance I am—or, pretend to be, at least—asked what I could do to make her feel better.
I should have known then—by the stupid, innocent curling of her lips—what she was going to request from me.
Dance with Annabeth, she told me, she isn't quite sure about you yet. And I had to hold my tongue not to mention that her fucking sister has no business commenting on the state of our relationship. Looking back I wish I hadn't. I wish I'd told Rachel the truth, maybe that way I would not have entirely fucked up my evening.
Then again, I would never have learned of Rachel's sister's suspicions either.
So maybe it was worth it because when I asked her sister to dance, she trained her gray eyes on me with such blatant condescension and confidence—like she already won—that I couldn't wait to knock her off her high horse. I was going to size her up, flirt a little maybe, charm her until she accepted me into her good graces. I hadn't expected it to be hard. I certainly hadn't expected her to retaliate so strongly.
And in the end, she just smile—just fucking smiled. And the curl of her lips, the flash of her teeth, was an eerie, frightening sight. It meant she knew, and worse, she knew she knew.
I shouldn't have goaded her. I should have had my fun with someone else—someone who wasn't so goddamn important to the mission. I was reckless and short-sighted. Now I have to fix this mess I made. I have to inform them of what she knows—of what she might ascertain. I'll have to avoid her from now on. She's unpredictable—dangerous. Nothing can jeopardize this mission—nothing will jeopardize this mission.
But there was one moment that made the night almost worth it. A moment when I thought I'd won. When I saw her eyes glaze over, her irises clear, and her muscles relax. She'd given up, I thought—but her feet never faltered, always moving to the designated beat, following the predesigned progression. It was fascinating. It was captivating. It was beautiful—even if she wasn't.
Because she wasn't—she isn't.
P.J.
...
Annabeth spent the best part of the next day, researching the Jackson family with the texts she had at her disposal. She was sure the information and books she'd requested from town would trickle in over the rest of the week, but she thought it a waste of time to dally around until they arrived.
Percy's family had very likely hired the assassins to poison William Dohlov. That much was clear, but it wasn't that that troubled her. Instead, Annabeth worried about was their intentions in doing so. Obviously, by murdering Rachel's betrothed and quickly offering their son as a replacement, Percy's family had hoped to gain some political power. But was that their only motivation? their end goal? Did they only want their own man in power? Did they not know of the strong political ties her family had in the area? Did they not understand the difficulties that would stand in his way were he to completely control the crown?
Perhaps they didn't, she thought. After all, they seemed to be dumb enough to pay the assassins directly instead of using a third party from a far-off land and hence further obscure their guilt.
She was nestled into the corner of her favorite chair—velvet blue—reading about the Jackson family's rise to success when she was interrupted.
"Annabeth," her mother greeted suddenly.
The blonde's head shot up, started as her mother had appeared unannounced. Why was she without guards? Had something happened? The concern must have shone in her eyes, as her mother quickly disputed her worries.
"Everything is okay," she said quickly, striding towards her.
"Why are you here?" Annabeth asked, startled. She shut her book, placed it on the table beside her, and stood.
"I wondered what you'd learned of the rumor I recounted to you last night," the queen responded.
"I believe the assassins were hired by Duke Jackson's family," Annabeth explained. "The evidence I have gathered supports my beliefs. I simply wonder why they did it."
"It's simple enough, is it not?" her mother returned, her eyes averting to the stacks of books piled high on the long table nearest Annabeth. Her gaze narrowed as she examined the titles. "They wanted their son to be king. William Dohlov was the one man standing in their way."
"But they could have easily persuaded another kingdom to betroth him to their eldest," Annabeth tried to argue, but her mom was quick to refute.
"Yes," she confirmed. "But none without a male heir to inherit the throne."
"Do you think he is a danger to us?" Annabeth voiced the question she had been pondering herself for quite a while.
"No," the Queen shook her head. "Not more than any other man would be."
"Mother—" Annabeth began but was cut off.
"Do you remember what I told you and your sister when you were young?" her mother demanded, her eyes shooting to meet Annabeth's.
"That is incredibly vague—"
"I told you to protect each other—to trust no one but each other," the queen rushed out. "I told you to remember that you and Rachel, both, were born into a dangerous world. A world that will judge you based on the people you surround yourself with, not what you do or who you strive to be."
Annabeth was tempted to interrupt as she heard a variation of the speech at least once a year, but her mother's eyes were gleaming—like they used to when she was just a child, when a halo of innocence still kissed her head, and she couldn't bear to break the image.
"I failed your father miserably when I could produce no male heirs," her mother continued. "And I forced you and Rachel into a circumstance that will only end in devastation. You must be careful—you must remember to be careful. Because men, these men view you as a prize. You are nothing but a crown in their eyes. You are but a stepping stone to success, and there is no feeling worse than being betrayed by those you love most."
"Mother," Annabeth tried to comfort her, reaching forward to place a hand on her shoulder. Moments of vulnerability and kindness were so rare with her mother. They reminded her of simpler times, when the world had seemed far smaller and far safer. She missed it sometimes—always. She missed it always. But alas, it wasn't real. They were forced to move on. For the family, she'd had to relinquish such childish delusions.
"Just be careful and remind your sister to do the same," the queen commanded, her voice suddenly stern again, her crumpled face morphing to stoic in an instant. "Duke Jackson is not more dangerous than any other man in the same would be. They all want the same thing: a crown."
"Yes, mother," Annabeth nodded obediently, watching out of the corner of her eye as her mother's emerald green skirt swished on the floor and the bright color disappeared from sight. By the time she looked up again, her mother was gone.
Annabeth sighed, throwing herself back into her chair. She glanced at the grandfather clock fastened to one of the shelves. She would find Rachel soon. They had promised to continue their discussion from last night, after all. And it was a subject Annabeth did not intend on dropping.
...
"Her Highness, Princess Annabeth," the guard announced slowly as the blonde tapped her foot impatiently. She rolled her eyes when he finally stepped aside, allowing her to enter.
"Rachel," she sighed, her lips pursed in an irritated manner. "This is ridic—" Her words caught in her mouth at the flash of green irises before her. She narrowed her gaze, honing in on the unfamiliar eyes.
"Your Highness," Percy greeted after a second too long, a grimace sliding across his lips as his head dipped into a polite bow.
"I—" Annabeth began before cutting herself off sharply and averting her gaze to her sister who was standing near her wide window.
"Percy," Rachel spoke up quickly, sparing him a hesitant glance. "Could you give me and my sister a moment?"
"Of course," Percy nodded before exiting the room, his orbs eluding the blonde as he moved.
"Rachel," Annabeth exclaimed, scandalized, as soon as the door shut behind her. "What was he doing in here? If anyone else had walked into this room, your virtue would be under scrutiny—"
"Annabeth," Rachel sighed, lowering herself onto a small ottoman. "We were only in here for a few minutes, and there were two guards in the room."
"That doesn't matter!" Annabeth frowned. "You know the lengths people will go to tear you down—"
"Annabeth!" Rachel interrupted pointedly. The harshness of her tone surprised the blonde, starting her into silence. "I don't want to fight with you."
"So don't," Annabeth remarked, sliding her tongue across the jagged edge of her teeth.
"I wouldn't," Rachel argued. "But when you try to control every minute of my life, I can't not say something—"
"I'm not trying to control you," Annabeth replied quickly. "I'm just trying to protect you—I'm trying to do what's best for the family—for the kingdom. Like you should be—"
"Gods, Annabeth," Rachel laughed hollowly, not humor in her stance. "I can't even get a word out without you interrupting me."
The blonde parted her lips, puffing up her chest to respond before registering the argument and releasing the breath in silence.
"Sometimes I feel so suffocated," Rachel continued to explain. "I miss the time before I knew the responsibility that would come with my crown. I miss feeling young and free and—and normal."
"But we're not normal," Annabeth trod carefully, taking a step towards her sister. "We're better than normal—we're royalty."
"Have you ever considered that might not be such a good thing?" Rachel pondered, turning her gaze towards the window overlooking the front of the castle. "Sometimes I think I might have preferred to grow up a commoner as long as I'd been loved and happy. I could easily do away with all the wealth and the power and—I don't know."
"I know I can be a bit overbearing," Annabeth considered, placing a hand on her sister's shoulder, her tender fingers warming the skin beneath. "But I do it because I love you and I want you to be happy."
"You don't understand," Rachel shook her head. "My whole life I've been babied. Ever since I realized I would be queen one day, I began to feel more and more like a child. Mother, Father, you, you all shower me with good intentioned suggestions and remarks, but all the attention is suffocating. I feel like I am being smothered from all sides. I—" she sighed. "I just want you to be happy for me—to have faith in me—to truly believe I might be able to do this."
"I do—"
"When then believe me when I say I trust Percy," Rachel countered. "My whole life, people have been treating me like I'm made of glass. But he doesn't. I think that's why I like him. Because he believes in me. He doesn't have any doubts that I'll make a good Queen."
"He told you that?" Annabeth questioned quietly.
"Yes," Rachel nodded.
Annabeth felt something clog her throat, something dark and dangerous clawing at her heart. "Do you really think he'll allow you to rule fairly?" she pressed, taking a step towards her sister.
"What do you mean?" Rachel asked, oblivious to the underlining harshness of the inquiry.
Annabeth felt her jaw click, her fingers twitching at her sides. "I mean, he's a man." She swallowed thickly, loudly. "He obviously believes he is entitled to more than half of the ruling power."
"No—"
"He'll be king," Annabeth advanced. "He'll be in charge. He'll always be in charge."
"No," Rachel shook her head desperately, a frown spreading across her forehead as her tongue slipped out to dampen her lips. "He's not like that—I know he's not."
"Don't be foolish," the blonde sneered. "They're all like that—"
"Not Percy—"
"You're being naive," Annabeth insisted. She tried to reach for her sister's hand but Rachel snatched her limb away.
"Stop that!" she shouted.
The blonde jumped, taken aback by her sister's anger. Rachel so rarely showed any kind of mal intent. Had the circumstances been different, Annabeth would have been proud of her sister for putting her foot down.
"Stop treating me like a child!" Rachel continued. "I'm not. I'm an adult in every sense."
"Rachel," Annabeth sighed, exasperated. "You're acting like a child."
"No!" Rachel shook her head viciously. Annabeth watched out of the corner of her eyes as some red curls slipped from her updo. "If anyone is acting like a child right now, it's you." Rachel took a deep breath before training her eyes on the blonde, the line of her lips tight and unyielding. "You walk around on your high horse, making condescending, passive-aggressive comments about Percy when you won't even take the time to talk to him. You won't even confront him with your qualms."
"Well, of course, not," Annabeth breathed. "I'm not a savage. Diplomacy must be treated delicately."
"I don't want delicacy!" Rachel screamed.
Annabeth shot her a look, her eyes darting around them as the guards tightened their grips on their weapons.
"I want something real." Rachel's hands closed into fists. "Haven't you ever considered that? Haven't you ever wanted something other than all this—this bullshit—"
"Rachel!" Annabeth hissed, grabbing her arm roughly. "Don't speak like that out here. Someone could hear you—"
"I don't care!" Rachel laughed hollowly. "I don't care. And I want to be with someone who doesn't care about that stuff—someone like Percy."
"It's not safe!" Annabeth attempted to stress.
"I don't care," Rachel said one final time before going silent, breathing slowly to remove some of the color from her fair complexion. "He treats me like a person, not like a doll."
"But—"
"No, buts, Annabeth," Rachel determined firmly. "Everyone else is happy with my engagement. Everyone else is happy for me. How is it the person I care about the most cannot find it in her heart to be satisfied as well."
"Rachel—"
"No," Rachel cut Annabeth off again. "I need to find Percy. I have something to discuss with him. Either accept our relationship or—I don't know," she shrugged, a sad grimace consuming her features.
She turned sharply on her heel before Annabeth could get another word in, leaving the blonde in the dust. Annabeth watched her walk away, a wave of undeniable anger and frustration smoldering inside her, but a deep-seated sadness seeping into the heat, creating a confusing mixing pot that Annabeth was entirely uncomfortable with.
a/n: I realize this chapter is short and not amazing. But it's a filler bc college is crazy. I just got hit w hw and soro stuff and ugh. Anyway, definitely did not proofread. Also, sorry about not updating my other stories. I will try to finish funny business at some point this week and there's no way I'm editing it so it'll be out the second it's done. Treason might take a while bc even tho I have 5000 words written their shit and don't make much sense so I have to go do that.
p.s. sorry, this is like the same old Rachel Annabeth shit but I'm trying to set some stuff up. there is def more percabeth coming up.
p.p.s. this is dedicated to Fangirl Shrieks bc you always leave the kindest reviews (like always) and It'sBeenALonggDay bc one, it has been a long day, but also for the lovely words in ur review. gracias very much both of u and everyone else who reviews and follows and favs. luv yall.
p.p.p.s. go vote on my poll
p.p.p.p.s. honestly how many of u r still reading this lol
iciao!
